


Walking Down the Road Together

by Wolfsong6913



Series: Never Meant To Be [2]
Category: Fullmetal Alchemist (Anime 2003), Fullmetal Alchemist - All Media Types, Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga
Genre: Being Nice to Lost Children, Canon Compliant, Developing Relationship, F/M, Fair, Flouride is the Best Name, Hohenheim is an Awkward Human Being, OCs are mostly there to populate the scene, Periodic Table of the Elements, Slice of Life, market
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-21
Updated: 2020-04-21
Packaged: 2021-03-01 18:28:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,119
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23771599
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wolfsong6913/pseuds/Wolfsong6913
Summary: “Well…” Trisha glanced at the stuffed rabbit she held in her other hand. “See this bunny? His name is…” She froze, her mind suddenly blank. She looked desperately up at Hohenheim, standing behind her, who promptly developed an expression resembling that of a rabbit suddenly faced with a wolf.“Um. Fluoride?” He said after an awkwardly silent moment. Trisha groaned inwardly, though she also had to hide a smile at just how veryHohenheimthat name was.“..Sure. Fluoride.” Trisha held the rabbit out towards the boy. “He’s a very special bunny! He loves helping little boys do things - like get up and go find their mother.”“M’not little,” the boy muttered, taking the rabbit hesitantly from Trisha and hugging it close to his chest. “‘N Fluoride’s a stupid name.”--------Or, Hohenheim doesn't know how to act around children, a little boy is lost, and Trisha just wants everyone to be happy.
Relationships: Trisha Elric & Sara Rockbell, Trisha Elric & Urey Rockbell, Trisha Elric & Van Hohenheim, Trisha Elric/Van Hohenheim
Series: Never Meant To Be [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1555792
Comments: 6
Kudos: 17





	Walking Down the Road Together

**Author's Note:**

> Just a silly little story about Trisha and Hohenheim and their normal, daily interactions together.

_They said we were never meant to be together  
Not a pair, barely even a match  
They said nothing we did would survive the weather  
But someday they’ll understand_

As they walked along the bustling thoroughfare, Trisha spotted a booth of traditional ring toss, complete with brightly colored stuffed prizes hanging from the top and edges of the stall. She pointed it out to Honenhiem, and he frowned briefly, then asked how to play.

Trisha laughed. “It’s the easiest game ever. You take the ring, and try to throw it onto one of the poles. If you land all three of them, you get a prize. What sort of childhood did you have where you never learned to play?”

Hohenheim’s face instantly closed off, like a shutter slamming over a window, and Trisha hastily dug a coin out of her pocket and tossed it to the man managing the stall.

“Never mind!!” she said brightly. “How about you go ahead and give it a try?” She handed him a brightly painted wooden ring, and he stared at it for a second, before awkwardly gripping it in a manner more fitting for a hammer or other tool.

“No, silly,” Trisha said, laughing. “Like this, see?” 

Hohenheim’s huge, weathered hands made her slim, brown fingers look dwarf-like in comparison, but he passively allowed her to move his fingers into a more fitting position. Fixing his fierce, golden gaze on the nearest rod, Hohenheim pulled back his arm and let the ring fly. It soared neatly through the air and landed precisely on the furthest post to the back.

Hohenheim looked baffled. Trisha clapped her hands with delight.

“Good job!” she crowed. “Do it again!”

This time, Hohenheim aimed for the one that already had his first ring on it, but the ring flew at an angle and looped itself around the base of a post nearly on the opposite side of the stall.

Hohenheim’s look of confusion was priceless. Trisha was nearly doubled over with laughter, tears streaming down her face.

“One more time,” she managed to choke out. “Please?”

Honenhiem’s last ring flew straight and true, and settled itself firmly on the post by the front, the one he had aimed at - and missed - at the very beginning.

Were Hohenheim a more expressive person - if he allowed himself to ever show any emotion at all - Trisha was sure he would have thrown up his hands in disgust. As it was, he merely frowned slightly, staring down at his hands as if he had never seen them before. 

“Well… congratulations,” the man running the stall said, clearly just as befuddled as his customers. “Since you landed three in a row, I guess you get a prize?”

Trisha picked out their prize with glee, a small, stuffed rabbit in fabric of electric blue. Honenhiem’s expression when he saw her choice nearly sent Trisha into waves of laughter again, and it was only by biting firmly into her sleeve that she stifled the urge.

Hohenheim led the way as they entered the crushing crowd again. Trisha stayed close to the path created by his broad back, sneaking glimpses of his face as they walked. To an outside observer, his face looked just as solemn and expressionless as ever, but Trisha was no outside observer - not anymore. She could see the faint crinkles of skin around his eyes, golden iris looking confidently forward as they walked, hands hanging loose and open at his sides. He was relaxed now - not frightened of ghosts from his mysterious past, nor nagging busybodies in their shared present. Trisha smiled, a brilliant, happy smile meant for both of them, and hugged their prize to her chest. Times like this was why she loved him - why she’d fallen in love in the first place, with the man behind the mask he wore. When he could be a happy, slightly confused, human being, instead of a distant and powerful alchemist. 

The sound of a child’s shrieking wail jolted Trisha out of her thoughts, and she nearly tripped over her own feet in surprise. Turning in a circle, she had to strain up on the tips of her toes to see a small boy sitting by the side of the road, tears streaming down his cheeks as he screamed. 

Hohenheim glanced back, brows bunched in a silent question, as Trisha left his side to push through the flowing stream of people and kneel down beside the boy. 

“What’s wrong? Where’s your mother?” she asked anxiously, one hand hovering uncertainly over the boy’s hair. Should she touch him? Would it sooth him at all?”

“I scraped my knee,” the boy sniffed, looking up at her through watery eyes. He couldn’t be older than three or four, poor kid. “And Mommy went in there - “ he pointed towards a red tent on the other side of the road - “And now I can’t go in and find her!”

“Why not?” Trisha asked gently. 

“Because I can’t walk!” the boy wailed, bursting into fresh tears. 

“Hey, hey, it’s okay!” Trisha said hastily. She hesitated, then gently ruffled his hair with her free hand. “How about I help you go find your mom?”

The boy stopped crying, and looked up at her again. “How?” he asked mournfully. 

“Well…” Trisha glanced at the stuffed rabbit she held in her other hand. “See this bunny? His name is…” She froze, her mind suddenly blank. She looked desperately up at Hohenheim, standing behind her, who promptly developed an expression resembling that of a rabbit suddenly faced with a wolf. 

“Um. Fluoride?” He said after an awkwardly silent moment. Trisha groaned inwardly, though she also had to hide a smile at just how very _Hohenheim_ that name was. 

“..Sure. Fluoride.” Trisha held the rabbit out towards the boy. “He’s a very special bunny! He loves helping little boys do things - like get up and go find their mother.”

“M’not little,” the boy muttered, taking the rabbit hesitantly from Trisha and hugging it close to his chest. “‘N Fluoride’s a stupid name.”

Hohenheim looked as though he were about to say something scathingly scientific on the nature of fluoride as an element, and entirely inappropriate for young children, so Trisha fixed him with a stern glare until he subsided. “What would you call him then?” she asked.

“Mr. Snuggles,” the boy replied at once. “‘Cause he’s so soft and snuggly.” He raised the rabbit to his cheek and rubbed it up and down to demonstrate.

“Mr. Snuggles it is then!” Trisha held her hand out to the boy. “Why don’t we see if he can help you get up and find your mom?”

The boy hesitated for a moment longer, then slowly put his small hand in Trisha’s slightly larger one, and allowed her to guide him up to his feet. Trisha helped support his weight as they limped across the road, Hohenheim once acting as a barrier against traffic. They paused in the entrance to the tent, Hohenheim holding the draped cloth ‘door’ aside, and Trisha squinted into the dim, red-tinged light. It appeared to be a mini-market of sorts, with several tables of pottery, jewelry, and other assorted household items spaced around the tent. At least five to ten women were examining the wares, and though Trisha despaired at the thought of finding the boy’s mother by sight alone, she glanced down at the boy, who was clinging uncertainly to her side. 

“Do you see her?” she prompted gently. “Is she still here? Or - “

“Mom!”

A tall woman in a bright yellow dress and sunhat turned from a table near the back of the tent. Her hand flew to her mouth, and Trisha could see her eyes growing comically wide, even from across the tent. 

“Dustin!” she cried, hurrying across the tent and scooping the little boy into her arms. “What happened?” She stared at Trisha, open-mouthed. “Who are _you?”_

“I saw he’d fallen and hurt his knee, so I helped him find you,” Trisha said politely. “I’m glad everything’s all right now.”

“D’you want your bunny back?” the boy asked plaintively. He didn’t move the rabbit from where it was clutched in his arms, and bit his lip uncertainly, staring at Trisha with round, blue eyes that fairly melted her heart. 

“Of course not,” she said warmly. “You named him, so he’s yours now.”

“Thank you,” his mother said, shifting the boy more firmly in her arms. “I appreciate your time, Ms - ? “

“Trisha Elric,” Trisha told her. 

“I’m Cindy Copeland,” the woman replied. “This is my son Dustin.”

Dustin waved the hand not holding the rabbit. “Hi,” he said in a small voice. 

“Thank you so much for taking the time to help him,” Cindy said again.

“It was no trouble,” Trisha assured her. “Have a good day, both of you.”

She quickly stepped backwards from the tent, letting the red cloth drape itself across the entrance. She sensed a presence behind her, and craned her head upward, to look Hohenheim in the eye. He was staring down at her, an inscrutable expression on his face. 

“What is it?” she asked, moving around to the side of the tent, so they wouldn’t be in the way. “Is something wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong,” he rumbled softly. “It’s just - you.”

Trisha blinked. “Me?” She almost turned around to see if anyone was standing behind her, but thought better of it.

“You’re so selfless,” he told her. 

Trisha felt a blush beginning to work its way up her cheeks. “Thanks - “

“Most people, they look at the world, and they start trying to figure out how to make it benefit them,” he continued. “They want power, money - “ he hesitated briefly - “eternal life. And they try to achieve these things through any means necessary. But you - you look at the world, and you see what you can give to the world, rather than what you can take.” In an unexpected display of affection, his hand came up, and gently cupped Trisha’s cheek. “You’re the most selfless person I’ve ever met,” he finished. “I’ve never known anyone else like you.”

Trisha’s face was burning red. She was sure of it, a nice shade of crimson to match the tent beside them. She wasn’t used to Hohenheim talking so much, and so freely, and his words made her heart ache for the kinds of people he seemed to have known.

“I… uh… well, thanks,” she stammered, pressing her cool palms against her blazing cheeks. Sensing an opportunity to get him back, and lowered her hands and let a slow grin spread across her face. “Do you think that means I’ll be a good mother?”

Now it was Hohenheim's turn to be flustered. His jaw dropped slightly, his eyes widening behind the lens of his glasses, and Trisha was sure she saw a flush of pink on the skin not obscured by his beard.

“Children? Trisha, I... Well, who’s to say…”

Trisha giggled, amused by the sight of her husband-in-all-but-name caught so uncharacteristically off guard. He set his jaw, clearly struggling to regain control, and took both of Trisha’s hands in his own, his warm calloused palms enfolding hers completely. 

“Trisha,” he said solemnly. “Do… Do you have something to tell me?”

Trisha blinked, then grinned, and leaned in close to Honhenheim’s chest, turning the hand clasp into an enforced hug. He hesitated for an instant, then tightened the embrace, clinging to her like he never wanted to let her go. 

“No,” she mumbled into his flannel shirt, the material scraping against her chin as she spoke. “No, nothing to tell you - yet.” She muffled her smile into his chest. Hohenheim’s arms tightened around her again, briefly, before he relaxed, and pulled back out of the embrace. Trisha looked up at his expression. His face was tense, and she couldn’t tell whether he was happy or upset at her lack of news. 

“Ah,” he said. “Um - “

Squeezing his hands as firmly as she could, Trisha took pity on him. “Come on,” she said, changing the topic. “Let’s go find Sara and Urey. I’ll bet they’re obsessing over the automail and medicine booths.”

“Probably,” Hohenheim agreed after a moment. He dropped her hands, his arms falling stiffly to his sides. Trisha sighed gently, and hooked her elbow with his. Their difference in height forced her to bend her arm at an awkward angle, but it was worth it to see the corners of his eyes droop as he subtly relaxed into her touch.

Linked now, they moved away together through the bustling streets.

_And we’ll always be together, you and I_  
Walking the twilight roads until the day does come  
Better the road be empty  
Than left with only one 

**Author's Note:**

> The more I write Hohenheim, the more I believe he is just completely and utterly socially awkward and clueless of how to act around people, and not the imposing, mysterious figure he comes off as, and it is just the most hilarious thing ever,


End file.
